


Bloodstains and Bullet Holes

by Ayanna_Wild



Category: Punisher (Comics), The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: Angst, Blood and Injury, F/M, Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:40:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25027090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ayanna_Wild/pseuds/Ayanna_Wild
Summary: It'd always been this way, even from the moment you'd met him, tumbling into your apartment blood dripping on the carpet. Tonight is no different.
Relationships: Frank Castle/Reader, Frank Castle/You
Comments: 1
Kudos: 21





	Bloodstains and Bullet Holes

It was late when you first heard the noise, laying in bed drifting in that hazy state just before sleep. You’d ignored it at first, brushing it off as the sounds of the city, until there was a soft thud from your livingroom. You sat up, hold your breath as you silently listened for any further noise, hand inching towards the gun under your pillow.

_“Fuck.”_

The muffled curse made you relax instantly and you heaved a quiet sigh at the familiar voice. Your movements were quiet as you tossed the blanket off yourself, feet hitting the cold floor as you stood.

A string of curses could be heard as you opened you bedroom door. The briefest of smiles pulled at your lips, until you saw the blood trickled down his arm, illuminated by the light outside your now open window.

“Damn it Frank, I just cleaned my carpet from last time.”

He turned his head in your direction, rolling his shoulders as he acknowledged you with a grunt.

“Sorry doll, yours was the closest place.”

Your heart would have fluttered at the name, had it not been for the steady growing puddle of crimson liquid forming at his feet.

“Just move to the kitchen, I’ll grab the kit.”

Frank watched you leave the room before doing as you said. You returned not moments later, carrying a small box. He looked a little worse for wear, but then again he always did, you’d seldom seen him with a least a busted lip or black eye.

“Didn’t mean to wake ya, tried being quiet.”

His voice slurred just a bit, and you wondered how much blood he’d already lost.

“I wasn’t sleeping, not yet anyway, grab the chair?”

You rummaged around your cupboards, searching for the whiskey you kept just for situations like this. The sound of a chair scraping across you floor made you look up, just in time to see the injured man collapse into it.

“Jesus Frank…”

You handed him the bottle which he chugged from grateful before he handed it back to you, watching you take a swing for yourself.

“Just my shoulder, I can take care of the rest.”

You said nothing but cut the bloodied shirt away from his injured torso. Various cuts and bruises were scattered over his body, the most concerning, being just as he said, his shoulder. Blood oozed from the wound each time he shifted and you exhaled a little shakily.

“ ’S not so bad, I already got the bullet out…” He mumbled.

You gave him a dry laugh, shaking your head as you grabbed a needle, soaking it in the whiskey, before pouring it over his wound for good measure. He hissed at the unexpected motion and you gave him a cynical smile.

“Stop bleeding on my carpet.”

He glared at you, but said nothing, his expression softened when you sat on his lap. You fingers delicately dancing over the bruises on his ribs, begore you turned your attention to the gunshot.

“Hold still.” You muttered.

He watched you work silently for a bit, grimacing every now and then but otherwise showing not signs of pain.

“I’ve had worse.”

It was his poor attempt at comforting you, and you gave him a tiny smile.

“I’ve mended worse.” You replied.

You were, in fact, referring to him. You owed a small pawn shop, you weren’t a doctor, but you’d known Frank long enough to give stitches like one.

You finished your work, lingering on his lap for a few more seconds before moving to stand. His hands moved to your grab your hips keeping you in place.

“I’m sorry it’s always this way.”

You took the edge of your sleeve, wiping away the blood from under his eye, your shirt was already ruined anyway.

“I don’t mind Frank, you can keep stumbling through that window, as long as I know it means your alive.”

You stood, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“I’ll see you in bed after your shower, Castle.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


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